New Distant Friend (For Anarae Schunk),
By Terry Scott Niebeling
Where does this take place?
Here and now.
I can no longer write so freely somehow.
If we were to stand we would pace,
And count the past before the Fall.
Look down, look around.
No real answers.
My penmanship has taken a drastically sharp turn; what was once long loops and squiggly lines, is staccato, rigid, and terse.
Our friendship has reached its earthly end, and for the worse.
We had nothing for to make amends.
Nothing but smiles-no hurt.
Not on our accord.
Not on the time we could afford.
Not on the command of the lord,
But some will persuade.
One can no longer relax on facts.
A person has passed, this is no act.
…Serious as a heart-attack.
When the curtains close what happened was lucid transpose.
All is done is exact.
I see your face on the covers at the news rack.
Life happens, we can’t go back.
Clearly and plainly, let those you love know, for when they go they go.
And after that there is little but time to react and think upon chance.
Death is not very intuitive.